counting days

Every day is not a good day. Oh dear, please... I am sick of you. I am tired.

I thought I'd not sleep last night. My eyes were wide open (with eyes wide open) and my brain's like crazy. So I did some things, you know, to drain the energy from my eyes (sa eyes lang may energy). And so I was successful, I turned my lights off, closed my eyes, and in a few minutes, I knew I was almost at the REM stage. And then there was music. Loud music. It wasn't just any music, it was Eminem's music, "Stan". See??!! It was so freaking loud that I could hear my brain (can you actually hear your brain?) singing along or rather, rapping along. I was a fan of Eminem so I know his songs. WAS a fan. The music was coming from my brother's room. I hate him. I hate him so much that I imagined pointing a gun to his face. I wanted to kill him. I had a dilemma though, after killing him, should I kill myself? or just pretend to be crazy and traumatized and live in seclusion? My "dream" ended there. With the help of my pillow, I was able to sleep. I slept at around 1:00AM then woke up at around 5:00AM. Sucks.